Sometimes It's Like
by CantHoldOn
Summary: Alice is hardly a hero, she isn't gentle, and Claire loves it. A dark, sadistic twist on Alice/Claire - smut, femmeslash
1. Sanity and Health

**Yes, I've written another story. This one is much different than my usual bid. I'll give you all fair warning: this is a dark, sadistic, twisted story. It's not all, "I love you, Claire!" or "I love you, Alice!". In fact, it's pretty much the opposite. Yes, it is smut simply for the sake of being smut. If you squint, there will be some character development, but not much. Each chapter is written from either Claire or Alice's point of view.  
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**If you're looking for a deep, moving plot, then I'll be honest: this is not the story for you.**

**To those of you still reading, I do hope you enjoy this story as much I enjoyed writing it. To clear any timeline questions up, this is set in a darker version of Extinction, after Alice rescues the convoy. For purposes of this story, they never went to Vegas and aren't really on their way to Alaska.**

**Summary: Alice is hardly a hero, she isn't gentle, and Claire loves it.**

**Rating: M **

**Disclaimer: If I owned Resident Evil, I wouldn't be sitting here writing smutty fanfics about Alice and Claire. We'd be enjoying it on the silver screen.

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Claire's POV  
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Sometimes it's like…

I can't breathe. _Oh God_, I can't breathe. My lungs refuse to work properly. I know they're fully capable of functioning, but my brain has all but shut down. Her lips are crushing mine with bruising force and her fingers find that spot, oh yes, _that_ spot – and my mind is gone.

How did this all start? Honestly, I don't really know. I'm pretty sure I know when and where, but the details after that… they get a little fuzzy. That's what she does to me. When she's with me, I can't think coherently, all I can do is feel and God it feels good.

I think it would be safe to say this all started a few nights after she rescued us from that flock of undead crows. We'd never seen anything like it. We were all so sure that we were going to die. Out of nowhere, this blonde stranger showed up and I'm still not sure if I understand it, but she killed all of those crows without lifting a finger. Whatever she did knocked her out for a while, but we were all grateful.

"_Alice_," her name slips unbidden from my lips, but that's okay. I know she likes it, because I'm rewarded as she changes her pace and it makes me moan even louder.

After she rescued us, Carlos convinced her to stick around. I guess the two have a history or something, but I really don't care. He checked with me, just to make sure I was cool with her sticking around, and I didn't mind it one bit. She had saved my convoy, and that was all that mattered to me.

A few nights after that intense rescue, I couldn't sleep and found myself out by one of the dying campfires. Like a predator, she came from somewhere in the shadows and joined me. I knew she was watching me, I could always tell when she was watching me. It was like a heavy weight, something I hadn't felt until she'd joined us. I think it was a little more thrilling to me than it should have been – shouldn't it have been disturbing?

I attempted light conversation, but that got absolutely nowhere. We sat in silence for a while, who knows how long. Eventually, I give up on anything productive happening between us and wish I'd done it from the start. Before I can get up to leave, her lips are crushing against mine and after I get over the shock, I melt into the rough kiss. How long does it last – seconds, minutes, hours? I can't tell and truthfully, I don't care. I can't be bothered keeping track of the time.

The one thing I do know is that it's over far too quickly. As quick as she was there, she was gone. I wonder if I'd just been imagining things, but the sudden lack of warmth lets a chill settle in that I know I can't be making up.

Suddenly, her lips part from mine and I suck in the air that my lungs have been screaming for from the start. It doesn't offer much relief because of all the overwhelming sensations at the moment.

Her lips make a scorching path down my neck and find my collar bone, where her tongue traces fading bruises and hickeys. That was the one request I'd ever made of her – not making marks where anyone else would see them, because I can't have the convoy getting concerned. She didn't touch me for nearly a week after I made the suggestion. I should have known better than to make such a request, but I can't have anyone in my convoy wondering where the marks come from. When she does come back, she agrees to the term – not because I'm right, but because she thinks it's best to keep them in the dark too.

I know it's sick, I know I should be appalled by what she does to me. She never actually hurts me, though. Sure, there's some pain involved and it's easy to see the evidence later, but she's never actually _hurt_ me. The pain enhances the pleasure that I feel – and no one has ever made me feel this good before.

My hands have the backseat of the Hummer in a death grip as she freshens up a fading bite mark. I know there are going to be bruises on my thighs because of the force she used to push my legs apart. When she's eager like that, that's when things can get dicey. I'm sure – I don't know for a fact, but I'm sure – that if I ever told her to stop or she actually heard pain in my voice that wasn't laced with pleasure, she'd stop. But please, oh please, don't stop now.

I can't help how my body reacts to her. It feels like I'm on fire every time she touches me, but she's the only one that can put out the flames.

Suddenly, I can feel the fire consume me. I stiffen, pressing into her as she works even more sounds out of me. Even though I'm crashing over the edge, she doesn't stop, she doesn't slow down. It feels like I'm going to break apart because the waves of pleasure are growing, rolling faster and I don't know how much more I can take.

I know she's watching me and I force my eyes to open so I can meet her gaze. She enjoys watching the product of her work, it's part of the rules. Though they are rather broad, the rules are simple: give Alice what she wants, and don't touch her. It's always easy to give her what she wants, simply because she makes it easy. All I have to do is let her do what she wants and try to survive the ride. The second part, sometimes that can be hard, but I manage. Thankfully there's usually something else to grip when she's around.

As if she can tell that I'm on the verge of bursting at the seams, she relents and pulls her fingers out of me. My breath is coming in ragged pants, lungs on the verge of total system failure. Though she stopped, the pleasure is slow to ebb away – sometimes it's like it will never fully go away, because I felt so much of it all at once.

I can hear her panting as well. She may have been the one working on me, but she gets something out of it too. She can try and hide it all she wants, but I know the truth. I know I shouldn't do it, I know how dangerous it is. If I don't gauge her mood right, if I make the wrong assumption, this could have disastrous results… but it's worth the risk.

I lean up and let my lips gently caress hers. It's stated plainly in the rules that I'm not allowed to touch her, but I can bend the rules when she lets me. My heart skips a beat, waiting for her to tear away from me, but she doesn't. Even though she doesn't respond to the gentle kiss, she doesn't pull away, either. Slowly, I pull back – I know better than to let the kiss linger for too long – and then she's gone. She leaves so quickly I barely register her absence before I hear the door shutting.

It's still dark outside. The only light comes from the stars and moon above, because the campfires have all died out. I feel around and find my discarded clothes, pulling them back on. Nights like tonight, I'm glad I park the Hummer a little further away from the rest of the convoy. That decreases the chances of being overheard, of being caught. I won't let us get caught, because I know she'll stop.

Sometimes it's like I wonder if I'm still sane. What we're doing, what I let her do to me, it's certainly not sane. Surely it can't be healthy. I can't bring myself to care about sanity and health, because that isn't nearly as satisfying as what she does to me.


	2. Rationality

**Updating so quickly? Why yes. Yes, I am. Just for my dear readers, even all you ninjas out there - yes, I see you in my story traffic.**

**Again, I just seem to be flexing my smut writing muscles with this story, so that's what you can expect from this chapter too. **

**Leave me some feedback, yeah? Reviews make me happy, and happy writers don't hold the next chapter hostage and demand ransom for it.**

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**Alice's POV**

Why the fuck does she put up with me? I know she likes what I do to her, I can hear it in the way she moans, the way she says my name while I'm fucking her. I still can't figure out why she lets me do it.

I'm not gentle with her. I take what I want from her and I do it roughly. There are bruises littering her pretty skin, bruises that I made and will make again. I swear, the roughness is part of what she gets off on. She wouldn't enjoy it so much if she didn't.

When Carlos introduced me to Claire under the unforgiving Nevada sun, I knew right off the bat that I had to have her. There was just no other way around it. It felt like I would die if I didn't touch her, if I didn't find out what she felt like under my hands.

And then I did. From the start, I found myself addicted to her. The night I kissed her by the dying fire was just the beginning. I got myself hooked on her, what I could elicit from her.

Now she's like heroine and there sure as hell aren't any rehabs left in the world. I don't think she understands what she is to me. In her eyes, I bet it looks like she is the one that's addicted. That works just fine for me. I'm the calm, cool, collected one. There's nothing that affects me.

Nothing but her.

I know last night I was a little rougher than usual. There are going to be bruises on her legs because I could barely control myself. I caught Carlos watching her intently during the day. Sure, jealousy is completely irrational, but I've never claimed to be a rational person. Once I got her alone, I made sure she was still mine – and made sure she understood that too.

I know I'd stop if she ever asked me to. I'm rough with her, yeah, but I don't actually hurt her. It's all done to make her feel even better. If I ever hear anything to indicate she's in actual pain, I'll stop. I wouldn't hurt her just to hurt her; I do it to enhance her pleasure. Last night, I know she enjoyed it, even if I was a little more eager than normal.

Usually I only give her a few minutes to recover and then I'm gone. Last night I lingered a few extra moments and she kissed me. It was so gentle – how can she be so gentle when I mark her like I do? I just don't understand.

I shouldn't let her bend the rules like she does. She's already starting to catch on, if last night was any indication. She waits for the right moment, when she knows I'll let her get away with it. How can I not let her get away with it though? Considering everything she lets me do to her, honestly, I should be surprised she lets me touch her at all.

I make sure she lets me keep coming back. Every time I'm with her, I blow her mind. She's never felt this good before, I can see it in her eyes. What I give her isn't something she wants to lose, either. She's my toy to play with, and I can play with her when and where I want.

During the day, the convoy stays on the road. They're smarter than I first gave them credit for. Keeping on the move is the only way to keep alive, even in a big group like this. They decide to stop at some old, rundown motel that probably didn't look any better than it does now before the outbreak.

I can hear Carlos, LJ, and Claire discussing whether or not to go in over the radios. If there was anything inside, it would have already come out because of all the rumbling from the vehicles.

Patience is not a virtue I possess, so I get out of the vehicle I'd been riding in. Armed with only a pistol, I head for the building to check it out myself. I hear her call out my name, but I don't stop. Instead, I walk inside the building, eyes easily adjusting to the darkness.

There's nothing in this building but dust and overturned furniture. There's no reason any infected would be hanging around out in the middle of the desert with nothing for them to eat. They probably abandoned this place long ago, but now that we're here, they'll likely come back.

I walk through the halls, just to be on the safe side. In this world, Paranoia is king and we're all his pawns. He keeps his subjects relatively safe though, as long as we listen to him.

I hear movement from the lobby – if it could be called a lobby – but the person is breathing so I know it's not a threat. In fact, I know who it is, just from hearing her breathe. I glance around the corner and get an eyeful of red hair and delectable curves.

Claire is the leader of the convoy, so strong, so well put together. Seeing her like this makes me want her even more. I know what no one else does. I know that under that leader-like exterior, something else waits. I know how to make her scream in pleasure, to make her beg for more. I know how it feels to have her submit and just how amazing that power trip is – there honestly aren't words to describe it.

She knows I'm watching her, I can tell by the way she looks around. She's trying to figure out where I am, but I'm not the prey here – she is. "Alice?" she inquires, glancing around once more. She should know better than that; I never give her warning.

I can have her whenever, wherever I want, and I want her right now. I watch as she starts down the hall, and I fall back into the shadows. As she comes closer, she knows I'm just waiting – she tenses in anticipation. She already knows what's coming next.

Still, I manage to surprise her, coming forward from my secluded spot in the shadows. I shove her back against the nearest wall and her breath leaves her in a moan. I don't give her a chance to catch her stolen breath, leaning in and capturing her lips. Despite the surprise, she responds to the kiss with the passion I've become accustomed to. I have her hands pinned to the wall above her, claiming what is mine without question or regard.

Her body is already pressing back against mine, a silent plea for more contact. I'll give it when I'm ready to, not a moment sooner. I like being able to make her want more, to need more from me.

Finally, I pull my lips from hers to ravage the sensitive skin of her neck. She moans, chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath. One of my hands slips down her arm, eventually tracing the curve of her breast and her breath hitches again. How she doesn't pass out from a lack of oxygen, I have no idea.

"Guess what, Claire?" I all but whisper against her skin.

Her answer doesn't come out right away. I'm distracting her too much, and it makes me smirk. "What?" she finally manages, her voice heavy and distant.

"The others are just outside," I say as I pull back to look at her. "If you make any noise, they're going to hear you. That means you have to be quiet, or I'll stop." I know the last thing she wants is for me to stop.

She nods eagerly, agreeing to keep quiet and my smirk widens. I knew she'd agree before I even told her. Now my hands are both under her shirt, fingers raking against her bare skin. She's squirming against me as I use my body to keep her pinned against the wall.

Obviously we don't have a lot of time, but I'm still going to have her. My hands tease her breasts until she's biting her lip to the point of drawing blood to keep herself from making any sound. She's doing well so far, I'm genuinely impressed.

She might have the patience to endure the teasing, but I don't – not for long, anyways. My hands are now traveling down to her pants, making quick work of undoing them. I'm not going to undress her, there's no time for that. I can still tease her though, and that's exactly what I do. I tease her, touching her everywhere except where she wants my attention the most. Her hips are moving against my hand, pushing against me, trying desperately to get more contact.

The faintest whimper escapes her, despite how hard she's trying to be quiet. I know I've got her. Finally, I indulge her and slip my fingers inside her. She lets out a heavy breath, one that I didn't even know she was holding in.

Suddenly, I hear more footsteps inside the building. "Claire? Alice? You two in here?" It's Carlos's voice.

I don't stop what I'm doing, despite the look of panic that flashes across Claire's face. If anything, I start thrusting my fingers inside her more vigorously. "Answer him," I tell her quietly.

She gulps in a deep breath of air, trying to find her voice and the will to use it. "Yeah, we're in here," she manages to struggle out. I know it's got to be hard to concentrate, because I'm starting to work her more roughly – just to make sure it _is _hard.

There's a pause and a few more footsteps. "Are you okay?" Carlos questions.

"Tell him we're fine," I whisper in the redhead's ear.

She leans forward, using my shoulder to muffle a barely contained, strangled sob as I thrust my fingers into her hard enough to push her back against the wall with a thud. It must hurt, but I can tell she likes it, because she's pushing into my hand again.

"Claire?" Carlos presses. I can guess what's going through his head. There's no way he didn't hear the sound she made, or the thud that quickly followed it. I vaguely wonder what kind of mental picture he's made and whether or not he's jealous.

"We're f-fine," Claire chokes out, maybe a little too desperately. "Be out in… a minute."

Again, there's hesitation but then I hear footsteps leaving the building. Good, he knows better. They all know better.

She's still leaning against my shoulder and I can feel her arms snaking around me. There's nothing else for her to hold on to, so I guess I'll let it slide.

I change up my pace, never really letting her get used to it. I work her up quickly despite the thrilling interruption – seeing her panic, it sent electric shocks up my spine. I love what positions I can put her in, what I can make her do.

It's quick, but she's crashing over the edge and I'm the only thing holding her upright. She's desperately holding onto me for dear life, trying to fight the waves of pleasure that threaten to drag her away from this world. I told her I was going to stop if we got caught, but we didn't technically get caught, now did we?

Sometimes it's like rationality is a thing I wasn't born with. There's no rhyme or reason to what we do – what I do to her. Then again, rationality is overrated.

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**P.S. I actually am holding the next chapter hostage. The ransom? Some reviews - good or bad.**


	3. Imaginary Figments

**Okay, my impatient little deviants - you know I say that with the utmost care on my part - here is the hostage, as promised. I mean, here is the next chapter. **

**Reviews make the world go round. I don't think it'd be fair to hold the next (and coincidentally last) chapter hostage, but... send some feedback anyway?**

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**Claire's POV**

The motel… _oh my God_. That is the best stop we've ever made. I never expected her to do something like that. When I walked into the building, I knew exactly what was going to happen. I could feel her watching me like a predator watches its prey and it sent spine tingling shivers through me.

Then she said she'd stop if I made noise, that made it so much harder but so much better. We both knew we could get caught and it heightened the thrill of the situation. She was steady, even as Carlos nearly discovered what we were doing.

Now, it's the only thing I can think of, even though I'm behind the wheel of my Hummer. K-mart keeps glancing at me like she expects me to say something. I don't have the mental capacity for a conversation right now.

I keep replaying what happened in the motel over and over in my head, even though we just left it not long ago. It's a good thing we're on an open stretch of highway, because I don't think I could navigate my way anywhere else.

Alice got so possessive when Carlos interrupted. It felt good – oh so good – but it's still surprising as I mull over the details fogged by lust. She got more aggressive when he was in the building, almost like she had to prove to me – and even Carlos, though he had no idea of what was going on – that I'm hers.

Wait. I'm hers?

That's actually not such a bad thing. I can handle being hers simply because I can't handle _not_ being hers. She does something to me, something I can't explain and I don't want to understand. There's no need for understanding.

Yes, I know it's just sex. I don't have a problem with that. This 'just sex' is the best I've ever felt, no matter how sick and twisted it is. I'm already burning up, just thinking about how it feels to have her hands on me.

She already had me once today, she won't come back tonight. That's okay, I can deal with that, no matter how much I want her. If I ask for it, she'll make me wait longer. She may be impatient, but I can force patience if I have to.

By the time we stop, the sun is offering up the bare minimum of light over the horizon. I was so lost in my own little world, that I didn't realize how late it had gotten.

When I get out of the vehicle, the first thing I feel is the weight of her gaze. Even that is exciting, it makes something warm stir in the pit of my stomach. God, what is wrong with me? All it takes is a single look.

I glance up and find her watching me, that damn arrogant smirk plastered on her features. I know that she knows why we kept going so late. Even after she's done with me, she has a lasting effect. Even from where I am, I can see that she knows I know she's not coming to see me tonight. I swear I see that damned smirk grow.

The night draws on at an intolerably slow pace. Since Alice isn't coming to see me tonight, K-mart stays in the Hummer with me. I used to be thankful for the company, but now there's only one person I want in this vehicle with me. All night, I toss and turn in the front seat, unable to get comfortable.

I begin to wonder what time it is, but the answer comes in the form of dawn. Another night without sleep. I bet Alice already knows and I bet she's already smirking about it. She loves what she can do to me and I can't deny that I love it too.

I know it's just sex. I know she doesn't actually care about me. Though I try not to get my hopes up, I swear I see something in her eyes, behind the cool and collected front she puts on. I can't say anything about it, she'll stop – and I might die if she stops.

I want her to come over to me, to say something, do anything while everyone gets ready to go for the next leg of our fight for survival. She keeps her distance though. It's all part of her plan, I know it is. She wants the tension to build up, because she knows how receptive I'll be.

She knows how responsive I can get and she likes it. That's why she keeps her distance from time to time, because that makes me want her even more. I hate it when she does this, but I love how she makes it up to me.

The day is going by just as slowly as the night did. She's riding with Carlos today and I briefly wonder if he's going to survive the day. When he's anywhere near me, or even just watching me, I swear she gets jealous. I probably shouldn't encourage how possessive she is. Though I don't think she'll actually do anything to him, she seems to want to keep 'us' – I don't really think it can even be considered that – low key. She wants me all to herself and I'm very willing to give myself to her.

I'm on autopilot all day. I give the answers people want to hear and give out orders as they're necessary. Mostly, my thoughts relentlessly wander back to a certain blonde. I can't believe I'd get down on my knees and beg her to come see me tonight, that's how badly I want her.

Finally, mercifully, the day draws to an end. For the last few hours, I was beginning to wonder if we'd slipped into eternity when I wasn't paying attention.

While I help everyone get settled in for the night, I notice that there isn't a certain weight on me. That's more crushing than her gaze feels. Very briefly, I panic and wonder if she's going to make me wait another day. The panic, that's probably what she wants from me. She wants to watch me squirm, and damn it, I'm giving it to her.

Once I'm sure that everyone's safely tucked away to get some rest – K-mart decided to spend the night with Carlos again – I head back to the Hummer. She's so fast and quiet I never hear her. I don't know she's there until my back is pressed against the cool metal of the vehicle and her warm body is pressed against my front. I don't even care how she does it; all that matters is that she's there.

Her lips are forcefully claiming mine and instinct to respond kicks in. I never take too long to respond to her, she doesn't have patience. I'll play by the rules, give her what she wants, and in return, I'll get rewarded.

I can feel her reaching around the side of the Hummer, opening up the back end. She pulls me along with her before practically tossing me inside. The wind is knocked out of me and I don't have time to regain it because her lips are back on mine once more.

Everything is getting foggy again, hazing over as she clouds every part of my mind. Somewhere in the back of my head, I hear the back of the Hummer shut again, but it sounds far away. Everything is far away, but not Alice. She's so close, but I want her closer.

Her lips leave mine and I stagger for air. She pulls my shirt off while I'm still trying to recover – I always try, but never succeed. I feel fingers trace over the marks she's left on me, then her lips and tongue trace over the marks as well. What can I say? I'm her canvas and she's one hell of an artist.

Her attention moves lower and my breath catches somewhere in my throat. She's tugging impatiently at my bra, but doesn't damage it. Clothes are in short supply.

I've had her hands and lips on every inch of my body, but the sensation never dulls, never fades. Each time she touches me, I feel jolts of electricity running through me. Everything she does with her lips and tongue is just a tease, just to get me worked up – she knows it and I know it.

A moan forces its way out of me as her lips find their way to my breasts. Another, much louder moan follows it in quick succession as she forces her knee between my legs. No one else could get me to surrender like this, but there's something different about her.

I'm already squirming, grinding against her knee despite my best efforts at control. I can feel her smirking against my skin and she's only exacerbating my need for her. She knows how to play me like a fine tuned harp.

Her hand slips down between us, rubbing me through my pants and it's almost more than I can take. "_Alice_," I pant out her name in a plea and it turns into a drawn out moan. Who knew a single word could convey so much need and want?

I hear her chuckle, but her hand is undoing my pants. Time ticks by too slowly, I want to ask her for more – now. I can't though, because she'll stop. Instead, I let her pry out more not so little sounds from me, while she takes her torturously sweet time with me.

When she's done with me tonight, I know I'll pass out. I might not even be able to pull my clothes back on, but I don't care. All I care about is how she can give me a high in a dozen different ways, one right after the other if she chooses to.

Sometimes it's like the world stops spinning while I'm with her. I know there are other people in the world but on nights like this, I wonder if they're just a figment of my imagination.


	4. This is Life

**Alice's POV**

I drove her to the point of exhaustion in the back of the Hummer. By the end, I don't know if she was begging for more or for me to stop – it all sounded the same. Her cries of ecstasy are still echoing in my ears, the way she called out my name when I pushed her over the edge time and time again.

She was already half asleep by the time I pulled away to leave her. Before getting out of the Hummer, I tossed a blanket over her bare form – if she got sick, she'd be no good to me.

That was nearly four nights ago. I haven't gone back to her since then. That's how it is though. After nights like that, I stay away for a few days. I spoil her, then don't give her anything. That helps in bringing her back time and time again.

I catch her every time she tries to watch me discretely. She's getting anxious again. She hates waiting, but I need to keep her hooked because I'm hooked. Do I really have to make her wait? It doesn't really matter, because she's going to wait one way or another.

I haven't made her wait this long in a while though. There was something about that night in the back of the Hummer – I think something changed. So while I try to figure out what's going on in my head, she's going to be patient and wait.

I can't tell if more time is harder or easier for her, I think it's a combination of both. It's easier because she's already gone a couple of days without me, and harder for the same exact reason.

She'll get what she wants though, she always does. I want the exact same thing; I just don't have the patience that she does. I guess you could say my patience is a bit bipolar; I can have patience when I want it, but other times, I just can't control myself.

I know she's wondering why I've stayed away so long. I usually only leave her alone for a day, maybe two at the most. Four days is torture for the both of us. There's just too much going on in my head.

The situation can be easily remedied; I know what to do to get my head out of the clouds. I need to get back in her. I won't admit to it, but I need her as much as I've made her need me. That has to be what's wrong. I know she needs me, that's fine. The fact that I might need her, that's something completely different.

I'm openly watching her as she moves through the convoy, checking on everyone before retiring for the night. K-mart, the teen that usually hangs around Claire, gives her a wave before heading to Carlos's Jeep. That will leave Claire all to me, just the way that I like it.

She glances over and catches me watching her. Even though I'm not next to her, I know her heart starts beating faster, drumming against her ribcage. All it takes is one look and she knows that I'm not going to make her wait any longer. Maybe I should, just for the hell of it… but I can't.

Darkness settles on the camp, but it doesn't make a difference to me. I can still see perfectly well. I get up from my perch and walk to the Hummer, stalking through the night like a predator. She's in the backseat, pretending to be asleep. I know better.

As soon as I open the door, her eyes are open and she's looking at me. Already, I can hear my own heartbeat in my head, the adrenaline is starting to pump. I haven't even touched her yet.

I shut the door behind me and climb on top of her. Her breath is already coming in short bursts, excitement skyrocketing because I haven't come to her in so long. I lean down, capturing her lips as forcefully as ever. I'm aggressive, I'm possessive, I'm rough, and she loves it.

Already, she's quivering beneath me. Her fingers are twitching as she fights the urge to touch me – she knows the rules. There are only certain times she gets to bend them, and now is not the time.

Tonight, I'm eager, it's hard to control myself. I just want to rip her clothes off and be done with it. Why do I care if she has anything else to wear? Well, honestly, I don't want to share her with anyone else and if she's running around without any clothes everyone else gets to see what I see.

It seems like it takes me forever to get rid of her clothes and I admire the picture I've painted on her. There are bruises on her breasts from the last time we were together, hickeys splattered here and there over her from that same night. She never complained once through it, just pled for more until I gave it to her.

Admiring my work brings me back to some semblance of control – I honestly don't think it's something I have when I'm with her. I lean down and let my lips find every inch of her that I can reach, my hands skirting over her flesh teasingly. It doesn't take long before she's moaning and bucking against me, wanting more. I bite at the sensitive area of her stomach and she arches into me with a thoroughly pleased moan.

Does she even know what she does to me? I don't think she can.

Slowly, I work my way back up her torso. My lips find hers once more as my hand trails up the inside of her thigh. I force my tongue into her mouth and she whimpers, trying desperately to keep up with me.

Suddenly, I pull back from the kiss, leaving her a bit dazed and confused. She looks up at me, but no explanation is offered. She understands because she can feel what I'm doing. Usually I like to surprise her when I slip inside; I always catch her off guard. Tonight I want her to know, and she does.

I watch her eyes flutter closed as I slide my fingers inside of her, purposely taking my time. Her mouth opens, but no sound comes out, only a heavy breath when I finish pushing inside of her. I hear my name slip past those beautiful lips time and time again as I thrust my fingers inside of her.

Whatever gentle care I used to enter her is lost quickly. My fingers work inside of her, harder and quicker, and she adapts well to the change. I can see how quickly I'm building her up, how she's desperate to prolong what I'm doing.

"A-Alice." My name leaves her again, this time more heavy than before. When she opens her eyes again, I can see her pleading with me not to let this end so quickly. Despite the silent plea, a moment later she's crashing over the edge into oblivion. I don't give her reprieve, working harder, faster still to push her further into that vacuum where every thought is a thousand miles away.

I know how to blow her mind and I do it with practiced ease.

I don't let her go until I'm certain that if I don't, she won't survive it. She's panting beneath me, struggling to get air she's been lacking several minutes now. I watch as she comes back from that foggy haze, as everything comes back into focus for her, and I smirk. No one has ever made her feel this good.

She looks back up to me and I see something different in her eyes. It looks like hesitation. She's thinking about doing something she shouldn't.

This is exactly why I never should have let her bend the rules.

With a tentative, trembling hand she reaches up and touches my cheek. She knows better.

When I don't pull back, the hesitation fades in her eyes. She's leaning up and her lips brush ever so lightly against mine. She knows better.

I never should have let her bend the rules. She knows she can do it; she waits for the right time. How could this be the right time? She always waits until I've worked her hard enough that we're both panting. I'm breathing just fine.

Then something I can't even fathom happens. Ever so gently, I return the kiss. I don't know how or why it happened, it just… did. She knows better. _I _know better.

It's not long before she pulls back, her need for air growing too strong. Now there's an uncertain look in her eyes, she didn't expect me to respond. I didn't expect me to respond. She doesn't know how to take it or how I'll react.

I'll get my revenge and she's going to love every single agonizingly pleasurable second of it.

Sometimes it's like this is life. I don't know what's going on between myself and Claire. I don't want to know, I don't want to understand. This isn't perfect, but it's what we have.

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**Well, my dear readers, this is the end of the story. Your work isn't over yet though. While you're reviewing (you all are writing reviews, right?) let me know what you thought of this story as a whole. Do you want to see more stories written like this one? Let me know what you want, because I just might be able to oblige. If you'd rather PM it my way, feel free. I want to know what you all think and what you'd like to see in the future.**

**As always, I really do hope you enjoyed this story. And I want to say thank you to everyone that has read this story, and thank you again to everyone that gave such awesome feedback!  
**


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